


You'll be crazy in love, honey.

by barthelme



Series: All your fear is just confetti. [2]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, literal daddies, okay maybe the angst isn't that light
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2020-08-14 13:35:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20193142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barthelme/pseuds/barthelme
Summary: The next installment of Single Daddies.





	1. Chapter 1

Armie didn't realize he was even awake when Timmy speaks. 

"If I wasn't so tired," Timmy whispers. "I would've woken you up with a blowjob." 

Armie snorts. Throws an arm out and realizes they probably didn't need to splurge and get the king size bed. Timmy had been right; they still manage to sleep on the same half. 

(It was one of many fights after they bought the house and Armie will never tell Timmy he was right. Will stand by his tantrum over needing a king size bed because, "Look at me," he'd said in the middle of the furniture store. Spread his arms over his head and even parted his legs to take up more space in the show room. "I _am_ king-sized!"

"Inside voices, Daddy," Harper chided from her place in the middle of one of the beds, sandwiched between Eliot and Olivia.

"Okay, well, I am _not_ king sized and I'd really like to have space for another dresser and--"

And Armie knew he shouldn't say it, but that was probably exactly why he said it. "Maybe get rid of some of your ratty t-shirts and we won't _need_ another dresser." He needed this king size bed. 

"I'd rather get rid of you," Timmy responded, and even though Armie knew he didn't mean it, it hurt. "Whatever, you're going to do whatever the fuck you want, anyways," Timmy said before storming off in the direction of model bathrooms. 

"Language!" the kids called after him in unison.

In the end, Armie got the king size bed and promised Timmy another drawer in his dresser. When the kids were all buckled in and the doors were shut, Timmy pressed Armie against the car and hissed, "And I'm fucking you tonight."

"Deal," Armie grinned. Went in for a kiss, but Timmy turned his head. Wrinkled his nose at Armie. Tried to fight off a grin.

"I'm still mad at you."

That night, he laid Armie on his side and fucked him from behind. Slow, so slow, bringing Armie close, so close over and over until he was almost in tears, was begging and pleading for Timmy to fuck him harder, which, Timmy did. Eventually.)

"If I wasn't so tired, I'd fuck you." There's a hum of appreciation, so Armie pulls Timmy closer. Continues, "I'd eat you out while you suck my cock. Then finger you until you forget what you're doing and--"

A finger traces a line down Armie's forearm. "And I'd probably settle for just sucking on the inside of your thigh. You like that, right?" 

"Armie likey," he sighs. 

Timmy pinches his arm, says, "Don't be fucking weird. Get back to fingering me." 

"Right, so I'd finger you and you'd be worshiping my thighs and yadda yadda yadda, then I'd--"

"Did you just yadda yadda yadda our imaginary sex?" There's a creak as Timmy sits up, pushing Armie away. When Armie looks up, he's met with a playful glare. "Am I that boring already that you--"

"I did _not_ yadda our imaginary sex. I yadda'd the boring stuff like--"

Timmy scoffs. "The _boring_ stuff? Get the fuck out of my bed, Hammer." Instead, he rolls close to Armie and tucks his chin against his shoulder. Works his jaw a little so it digs into the meat of Armie's muscle. "Do you think I'm boring?" 

Armie is shaking his head before Timmy even finishes his question. It's one that's been asked a few times, and the answer is always the same: Armie could never get bored with Timmy. 

"Do you wish I was more--"

And he knows where this question is going, so Armie snorts. Wraps a tight arm around Timmy's shoulders and kisses the top of his head. "Timmy, you let me jerk you off at the gym last week. You're plenty adventurous." 

"That doesn't count," Timmy says and Armie can basically feel the blush creeping along Timmy's cheeks. "There are private shower stalls." He sighs. "I just mean, do you wish that I was into--"

"Stop," Armie says. Squeezes his shoulder. "I am extremely satisfied--thrilled, if you will--with our sex life." 

They've talked. A lot and usually via text, even if they're in the same room. Both because of the kids, but also because it's easier for Timmy to get his thoughts across that way. Also because of Nick. He's walked in on too many conversations and Armie is worried Nick will begin to have unrealistic expectations if he ever finds a girlfriend. 

("Jesus, do you two do anything but fuck?" he'd asked one time, his voice a mix of wonder and disgust.

"I'm making up for lost time," Timmy retorted. Threw one of the kids' dirty socks at his head.)

But, they've talked and Armie's "Things I want to try" list is about three times as long as Timmy's "Things I actually want to do" list. It's fine, really, Armie doesn't care. Joked, "I'm a bit sick," and Timmy didn't respond but he'd nodded. Bit his lip. 

Timmy's "I haven't even heard of that," list is pretty lengthy. 

"Timmy," Armie starts. Hopes that maybe this is the time Timmy _gets it_. Knows it's unlikely. "I would rather be right here, having imaginary sex with you than doing anything on my list with anyone else." 

Timmy opens his mouth to respond, but there is a crackle. White noise. They both freeze. Hold their breath. A slight rustle. 

Nothing. 

Armie is the first to exhale and it comes with a chuckle. "Now, where were w-"

And then there's a crackle and a high-pitched cry and Timmy is rolling onto his back. He does a full body flail and then stills himself by pressing his palms into his eyes. Finally exhaling. "I'm pretty sure she hates me," he whispers, and Armie reminds himself that once the house is quiet again, he needs to tell Timmy how great he is at being a dad. How important he is to the household and how none of this would work without him. 

As much as he wants to tell him now, he knows Timmy won't listen. Knows that when the twins and Harper are at school and the baby is likely in her midday coma, he should text Timmy every reason why he is amazing so he can read it again and again and again. 

Right now, he needs validation. "She doesn't hate you, she's just hungry. I can feed her; do you want to get the kids up?"

Timmy nods. He takes a deep breath and stands up. "Pancakes?"

"Sounds good," Armie says. Takes a last look at Timmy as he pulls on one of his ratty t-shirts and walks out of the bedroom. 

And then, he's on autopilot. Slips into his sweatpants from last night, slides the baby monitor in the pocket. Walks to the kitchen and turns the bottle warmer on as he passes by the fridge. Grabs a bottle and tosses it in the warmer as he walks through to the nursery. 

He hears birds outside. Timmy's in the girls' room, telling them it's time to get up. Eliot is already awake; Armie can hear him plucking away at the ukulele he got for his last birthday. The baby is making sharp yelps that make his chest ache, even if he knows she's fine, she's just fine. 

Everything is fine, just fine. Better than fine. He doesn't want to say perfect, because nothing is perfect. But it sure feels like it could be, sometimes. 

He pushes the nursery door open and says, "I'm here, I'm here." Leans over her crib and smiles when she stops crying upon seeing his face. "Good Morning, Matilda."


	2. Chapter 2

Timmy holds his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Pinches with his thumb and middle finger while he massages his forehead with his pointer finger. Squeezes his eyes shut. 

"Please," he says. Taps the edge of her bouncer and she bobs, bobs, bobs, screams. "Please, Mattie." 

It's been a long day. 

____

She finally falls asleep around noon and Timmy makes eggs. He makes eggs and scarfs them down like someone is going to take them away. He folds laundry and puts everything in piles. Sweeps the floor and then sits on the couch. Leans his head back and sighs. 

It wasn't supposed to be like this. 

They weren't supposed to be like this. 

He curls into a ball and closes his eyes. 

Blinks, blinks, sleeps. 

And then Matilda screams. 

____

He wants to cry, but he remembers that it was harder with two. That it was this bad, but multiplied. That he didn't have help, that he was alone, that when he wants to cry the most, someone wasn't there with tissues. 

So he paces in the apartment and shushes her. He strokes her back and sings songs that are new on his tongue. 

He gives in, eventually, and grabs the wrap. Straps her to his chest and goes for a walk. 

_____

The bells on the door haven't finished jingling when Nick is on him. He's pressing Timmy against the door and weaving his hands into the wrap. Saying, "Gimme, gimme, gimme," while Timmy looks at the ceiling. 

Silently pleads, 'Take, take, take.'

A woman watches. She's scooping the handles of her bag from Armie and says, "So nice to see dads who are so involved," 

And Timmy doesn't argue, but Armie does. "That's actually my little girl," and he sounds so proud that Timmy's stomach hurts. 

Everything hurts. He hasn't slept through the night in weeks and even when he has a chance, he worries that something is wrong. Stares at the ceiling, at Armie. There is no way this is perfect, that this is his life. 

"Oh, you," the woman shifts her index finger between Nick and Armie. 

"No," Armie laughs. Walks out from behind the counter to grip Timmy's waist. Presses his lips to Timmy's temple. "Us," he says. "Nick is just the uncle."

Timmy grins, but he doesn't smile. He rests his head against Armie's shoulder. 

He's really tired.  
____

She goes to sleep that night. 

She goes to sleep and the twins and Harper want to watch a movie, "Alone, okay?" Which, Timmy didn't think was going to happen so early. He didn't think that sort of sass would exist before their ages reached double digits. He snorts as Armie backs out of the bedroom. Says, "Okay, yeah, fine." 

"What are they watching?" Timmy asks. 

Armie shrugs and licks his lips. "One of the Toy Story movies." He's quick. Corners Timmy in the kitchen. "Hello," he whispers into his neck. 

They have an hour, or so. 

"Hey," Timmy blushes. He closes his eyes and grins as Armie slides his hands down his thighs. 

Armie tugs on Timmy's earlobe with his teeth. "Should we?"

And Timmy responds, "We should."

____

They don't. 

They try, but they don't. 

Armie is on top of Timmy, pressing him into the mattress and sliding his lips along his neck, his shoulder. Lapping at his nipples and pushing his hand against his crotch. 

Looking up when he finds nothing hard, nothing wanting, nothing. 

"Do you--"

"No, it's fine, we can--"

"No, it's okay," Armie breathes. Sits back on his haunches and looks down at Timmy, who looks up, up, up. Blinks and looks away. 

"You can," Timmy says. Spreads his thighs so Armie fits between them. 

Armie shakes his head. Says, "No, this is nice," and pushes their bodies together. Blinks, and Timmy can feel his eyelashes against his skin and he clenches his own eyes shut. Tries to force tears away. 

_____

She wakes before the sun rises and Timmy feeds her. He pads around the apartment and shushes her and she goes to sleep and he is awake and he is tired and he is worried and he is. 

He is. 

He checks on the kids and they are asleep. 

He starts a pot of coffee. 

He climbs into bed and pulls the sheets down. 

Timmy pulls the sheets down and presses a kiss to Amrie's cock, boxers be damned. He smirks when Armie laughs. Hooks his thumbs on he elastic and pulls them down. Sucks Armie's cock into his mouth and cups his balls in his hand. 

He's eager, but he's always been this way. 

____

Armie comes down his throat and Timmy sits back. Grins. Massages Armie's thighs. 

Armie says, "What was that for?"

And Timmy shrugs. "Just because." 

He tries to live in this moment. When he isn't worried, when he isn't scared. When everything is fine. 

It's not fine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was able to spit out some words! Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has had something kind to say the last few weeks (and all the time, really.)

It's Saturday and Nick is running late. He texted Armie, so it's _fine_, but he's later than what he normally deems **late** and Armie is worried. 

Not worried for Nick. No, Nick is probably hungover or couldn't get his one night stand out the door or he lost his keys or _whatever._ Armie is not worried about Nick. 

He's worried about Timmy. Worried because he promised Timmy he would be back in time for him to go to his group. His parent group (which used to be called the Mom Group, but then Timmy showed up and he, of course, had something to say about that) which only meets every other week and he missed the last meet up because Harper was sick and--

"Fuck," Armie hisses. He checks his phone again. Nick has literally three minutes to get here. 

Three minutes, because if he takes any longer, Timmy won't be able to bike to the coffee shop they meet at. And it's his only time to bike, really. Until Mattie can hold her head up, until she stops crying when she's not being held until--

The bells jingle and Armie hops off the counter. Rolls his eyes and says, "You're fucking late," and is out the door before Nick can apologize.

____

Timmy leaves with a kiss to Armie's cheek and lingering hand on Mattie's scalp. "I love you," he says, but it feels like, 'I'm going through the motions.'

Armie sits on the couch. He holds Mattie to his chest. Smiles as she nuzzles against his neck. As her hand grasps at his collarbone and she makes this _sound_ that makes his entire body feel comforted. God, he loves it.

He licks his lips and looks across the room to where Timmy's books are opened on the table. To where his bag is thrown over a chair. Where the kids' half done artwork is covering his actual homework. And a baby bottle is settled on top. 

Armie turns his head into Mattie's sleeping head. Whispers, "We love you," and closes his eyes. 

____

Mattie has just fallen asleep in her crib when Timmy comes home. He's coasting down the driveway when Armie opens the door. Lets it swing open and leans against the frame. Crosses his arm. 

Timmy effortlessly hops off his bike and lets it fall to the ground. Looks up at Armie. "What?" he asks. 

Armie shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Was she difficult? Is she not--"

Armie closes his eyes so he can roll them. Opens them and smiles. "She's fine."

Timmy is quick. He hops up the steps and tries to walk inside, but Armie holds an arm out. Stops him. 

"She's sleeping, Timmy." He straightens up and pulls Timmy closer. Ignores the stiffness of his body. "How was your group?"

"Fine," Timmy says. He peers into the house. Tries to move past, but Armie holds him in place. Strong hands on his hips. 

"Timmy, she is sleeping. She is fine."

Timmy opens his mouth. Closes it. 

Opens it again. 

Closes it and rests his head against Armie's chest for a second before straightening up. "I just--"

But he stops without being cut off. Armie aches to speak. He runs his thumbs along the worn fabric of Timmy's jeans. Blinks down at him and watches as Timmy actively avoids his eyes. His hair is too long and Armie might see if Timmy will let him trim it tonight. 

After Harper, Liz stopped doing her hair. Armie didn't think anything of it. Thought, _of course she's not doing her hair. She's taking care of a human._ But then she stopped cooking and ate canned soup and frozen waffles. She let her nail polish chip until it fell off completely. Started biting her nails instead of trimming them. 

She was the perfect mother, though. Made sure Harper went down for naps like clockwork. Would roll around on the ground with her during tummy time. Narrated her entire day in a sing song voice because, "It helps with speech development, Armie, so just do it." 

Armie finds himself doing it still, sometimes. Folds the laundry and says, "And now, we take one, two socks. And we fold them like this so they don't get lost. This is a blue sweater. Do you like the blue sweater? It is soft," like a god damn episode of _Sesame Street_ even when no one is around. 

She was the perfect mother, but she stopped being herself for a while. One particularly rough night (Harper started teething early), she came back to the bedroom, but didn't get in bed. Just stood by the door. Armie could see the silhouette of her hair piled on top of her head in a messy knot. He was groggy, but he sat up. "Liz," he started, but was cut off by the sound of her inhaling sharply, almost like she was trying to ward off a sob. 

He thought she might leave him. Their relationship was strained those first few months. Armie still had to go to work, so he couldn't help all the time. And he didn't know what to _do_ half the time. Harper would cry and he couldn't soothe her and Liz would just take her and sing song, "Guess I'll just do this, too!" 

He felt like a sham of a father. 

So, he was surprised when she'd finally--after many deep breaths--said, "I don't know who I am anymore, Armie." 

They were tired and Harper was finally sleeping, but they sat up talking that night. Making a plan for Armie to switch some shifts with Nick. Maybe hire a high school kid to work part-time. Armie would be around more so Liz could have time for herself. Eventually, Armie could put Harper to sleep in five minutes flat and Liz started baking again. Things became a new normal. 

Armie wants to tell Timmy this. Timmy, for whatever reason, likes to hear about Liz. Encourages Armie to tell him stories about her, about their relationship. About their life. But right now, he doesn't think it will help. Timmy has already been through all of this before. With twins. Alone. 

Armie had assumed Timmy would easily transition into being the father of a newborn again. 

It's a long minute before Timmy talks. "I was finally getting my life together, Armie," he says. He's still not looking at him. His gaze seems fixed on Armie's shoulder. "The kids were in school, I was taking classes. I had this great boyfriend. I had friends. Actual friends, not parent friends. Hell, I had time to go biking just for fun, which I haven't done since I was fifteen years old, Armie." 

When he finally looks up to look at Armie, Armie inhales. Swallows. This is it. "Timmy, I can--"

"No, you can't," Timmy whispers. "This is the life _you_ wanted. And you got it. You got your big family and your house and you--"

"--I can work less. Nick said he--"

"--don't even care that I had to put my life on hold to make this all work." 

They had talked about it. Armie couldn't stay home because he needed to run the store. And Timmy could switch to online classes. Take one or two at a time. Financially, they were fine. They didn't have to pay for after school care for the kids because they could be home with Timmy then. They're renting out the apartment above the hardware store to a pair of newlyweds. They can afford for Timmy to stay home. It just made sense. 

Timmy sighs. Pushes Armie's hands off his hips. Walks towards the door. "I gotta go wash bottles." 

"I already washed them," Armie says. He follows Timmy into the house; quietly closes the door. The house is silent; the kids are at a birthday party for another hour. "Timmy can we talk about this more?"

Timmy shrugs and walks to the kitchen. Pours a glass of water and takes long gulps. Swallows and sets the glass down. He leans back against the counter and asks, "What is there to talk about? You got what you wanted. The house, the big family, the fucking minivan and--"

Armie wipes his palms down his cheeks. Groans. Jesus Christ, if they have one more fight about the stupid minivan. He checks the clock on the microwave. "Timmy, I have to give Nick a break, but I can be home in like. An hour and a half."

Timmy waves him off and stalks out of the kitchen. Slips into the nursery. 

As he's leaving, he props Timmy's bike up against the deck. He's stopped wearing his helmet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I 1000% promise this has a happy ending. Just not now, because, you know. Babies are hard. And so is being Armie's friend, as you will see next chapter. (Yes, that was me telling you that the next chapter is going to be almost entirely Nick.)


	4. Chapter 4

Armie: _you're doing a great job timmy_  
Armie: _im taking tomorrow off_  
Armie: _you can do whatever you want tomorrow_  
Armie: _but i want to talk tonight okay?_

It's hours before Armie gets a response. 

Timmy: _k_

Nick laughs when Armie shows him. Teases, "Remember back when you were pining away and you were like, 'Oooh Nick, I love the way he talks.'" And then he cackles. 

"It's not funny," Armie says, but it is a bit funny. He smirks. "He seems so unhappy, sometimes." 

Nick shrugs. "He's always seemed about one second from flipping a table." 

"Around _you_, maybe." 

"Not just me. Basically, anyone who is over the age of eleven."

Armie rolls his eyes. Nick's not wrong, but he's not right, either. Timmy is softer now than when he first met him. He still has walls up, but they're shorter. Armie can easily see over them. "I'm worried he's going to leave." 

Nick leans over the counter to grab his water bottle. Unscrews it and says, "Quick, find another kid to adopt," but it doesn't sound like a joke. Nick takes a long sip and then puts the bottle back. "Most people would have gotten married in your situation. But, no, you decided the next step in your relationship should be opening an orphanage. If you'd like, I can swing by the high school and see if there are anymore teen moms looking for a home fo--"

"Shut up," Armie says. He works his jaw back and forth and folds his arms over his chest. Ignores the smug look on Nick's face. "It wasn't like that." 

It wasn't, right? 

Armie pockets his phone and goes to organize a few boxes of screws that Nick knocked over earlier.

____

It wasn't like that.

It was Sharon telling Timmy about one of the high schoolers who was pregnant. It was Timmy offering to meet with her, to give her someone to talk to whose been through the same thing (and Armie saw those walls shrinking), someone who could offer advice and encouragement. 

But, then Timmy came home and he was quiet. He hugged Eliot and kissed Olivia's cheek and ruffled Harper's hair and said he needed to take a nap, so Armie took the kids to get ice cream. When they came home, Timmy was in pajama pants and one of Armie's t-shirts. He had made popcorn and put out pajamas for everyone and the title screen for _Inside Out_ was on the television. 

Once the kids were engrossed, Armie was thrilled when Timmy tugged him into the kitchen (the movie was getting too real and he was afraid one of the kids was going to look back at him and he'd be reminded how fast they are growing), but decidedly less thrilled when he said, "She's not keeping the baby." 

Or, not less thrilled, but not happy with the way Timmy looked. 

Armie knows that the twins were supposed to be adopted. That the paperwork was done and the couple was in the waiting room when they were born. That Timmy was told he could wait out there with them, but he didn't. When their mom didn't want to hold them, Timmy cradled them both, clumsy because he'd never held a baby before, let alone two at the same time. He knows that Timmy didn't cry, not then, not until he went into the waiting room, still in his scrubs, and told the couple, "I'm so sorry," and the wife hugged him and assured him it was okay, she understood, she understood. Sobbed when she said, "They're yours, and if you need anything, you just let us know, okay?" 

(They'd visited the twins, once. They were just starting to be able to support their own heads and the couple visited and held them. The dad said, "We're adopting a brother and sister. Two and six," and he'd smiled and the pit in Timmy's stomach that had been growing since the moment he knew he had to be the one to tell them they weren't going home with his children shrank until it was nothing.)

"You don't think she'll--"

Timmy shook his head. "She wants to be a doctor. Wants to travel and go to house parties and--" he licked his lips. Closed his eyes and probably had a list in his mind of things he'd wanted to do, too. "She isn't going to keep her."

"It's a girl?"

Timmy nodded. Looked over at the kids who were watching Bing Bong say, "Take her to the moon for me, okay?" Harper and Olivia were holding hands and Timmy looked back at Armie. 

"Well?" Armie asked, even though he knew the answer.

Timmy shrugged and nodded. 

It was like that.

_____

When Armie gets home, the kids are back. Harper is in Timmy's lap and the twins are gathered around Mattie's bouncer, making silly faces. Timmy grins up at Armie. Says, "Hey," and pats Harper's leg until she stands up and goes to join the twins. 

He wraps an arm around Armie's waist and presses his forehead against his shoulder; Armie is more than happy to press a kiss to his hair and wrap him into a hug. "I'm sorry," Timmy says, low so the kids can't hear. "This is the life I wanted, too, just..."

"It's hard, I know," Armie says. "But you're doing so well, Timmy." 

Timmy nods. "I know I am, it just doesn't feel like it sometimes."

"I talked to Nick. We can work something out so you can focus on school more. He even offered to take the kids one night a week, if we want."

Timmy smiles. 

____

Armie knows they have _maybe_ an hour. Mattie has been waking up a lot, lately, but he closes the nursery door. Stands outside for a few moments and when the house continues to be silent, he quietly walks to their bedroom. Opens the door and laughs, "I said get ready, not finish without me."

Timmy is on his back, one arm hooked under his knee, holding himself open. Three fingers pressing quickly in and out of his hole, stopping every now and then to slick over his rim before thrusting back inside. "Then hurry the fuck up," Timmy hisses, slipping his fingers out to wrap around his cock. Armie can't help himself; he climbs on top of Timmy and leans down to lick at the head of Timmy's cock. Sucks on his belly where Timmy's cock has been leaking. "Armie," Timmy warns. 

"Fine, fine," Armie says. He sits up and pulls his shirt over his head. Shoves his boxers down to his knees and yanks Timmy down the bed. "So impatient," he chides before sinking into Timmy and burying his face into his neck.

_____

Afterwards, Armie knows they should sleep, but he lets Timmy talk. He'd _wanted_ to talk, after all. 

"I feel stuck. Like, right now I can't make enough money for daycare to even be a possibility, but I don't have time to really focus on school." He runs his hand down Armie's stomach. Slides his palm over his hipbone. "But, then I also feel like I'm being selfish and I should just accept this and spend more time with the kids because--"

"You're not being selfish," Armie whispers. Kisses the top of Timmy's head. 

"Well, I feel like I am."

"I know." 

Armie dances his fingers over Timmy's shoulders. Down his spine, the small of his back. Slides a fingers between his cheeks and presses inside. "Off topic, but I want to fuck you again tonight."

Timmy snorts. "It's like, two in the morning."

Armie nods. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure the Greeks called that fuck'o'clock." He hooks his finger and sighs when Timmy lets out a quick gasp. He feels loose, pliant. 

"The Greeks, yeah?"

(Armie loves feeling his come inside Timmy. He doesn't say it out loud, doesn't even put _that_ on any sort of list, but he knows Timmy knows. Probably figured it out after the first time they fucked without condoms and Armie came first because _holy shit_ Timmy was tight and he didn't hesitate before shoving Timmy onto his knees and pressing his mouth against Timmy's hole. Licking, sucking, biting until Timmy was coming untouched.)

"Well, I should sleep."

Armie shrugs. "Kinda into that, too." 

And Timmy laughs. Slaps a hand over his mouth because it's loud, so loud, and Armie thinks it sounds like heaven. 

_____

A week passes and everything is fine. 

A week passes and Mattie starts to basically sleep through the night. Armie and Timmy are able to spend some time alone outside of the bedroom. Tonight, they're watching an episode of "Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives," and Armie's head is in Timmy's lap. 

At commercial, he looks up at Timmy and says, "We should get married." 

And Timmy laughs, but it doesn't sound like heaven. It sound sharp and sarcastic. "Yeah, okay," Timmy responds. 

"I mean it," Armie presses. "It doesn't have to be anything big, but--"

"I don't want to marry you," Timmy says. It's blunt and to the point and Armie feels like Timmy just put a ceiling above his head. 

Armie closes his eyes. "Like, ever, or--"

"Can we not talk about this?" Timmy pleads. It's softer and he threads his fingers through Armie's hair. "We've had a good day. I'd rather not talk about this." 

Armie wants to say they're all good days, even when they don't feel like it. Instead he nods and looks back at the television.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been messing with this for too long and realized I will continue to mess with it and not move on until it's out of my hands, so here you go! 
> 
> bartbarthelme on tumblr.


End file.
